Everybody Wants That Man
by Lilith Dastalour
Summary: Bugsy Malone can have any woman he wants, except one. What's a boy and his special fedora to do? This is a retelling of the musical Bugsy Malone, only better! Adults talking like adults, sex, booze, jazz, and fun fun fun! Rated R for sex and language.
1. He's A Sinner

Fat Sam's Grand Slam was called the liveliest joint in town. Speakeasies were popping up every few seconds, but few lasted for very long. Their dancers weren't pretty enough or a rival gang would come and destroy everything inside or they didn't have enough cash to pay of the authorities.  
  
But there were two places that were always prosperous, that no one ever dared fuck with: Dandy Dan's Place and Fat Sam's Grand Slam. Located on opposite sides of town, the owners had been long time rivals and were always trying to one up each other. There was booze aplenty, beautiful showgirls, loud music, and completely embodied what the papers were calling "The Roaring Twenties".  
  
But both speakeasies closed at dawn and wouldn't be opening again for hours, so the only sound at Fat Sam's was the scratching noise of the janitor's broom.  
  
Fizzy swept the stage absently, allowing his mind to wander to faraway places. He was staring off dreamily as he cleaned the floor of the dirty stage, making a pile of wig hair and tassels and broken glass. It was too early for work, but he needed to show some initiative otherwise he'd never convince Sam to give him a job as a dancer. The sun had risen not but an hour and a half ago and the last patron had been dragged out through Pop Becker's bookstore and sent to fend for themselves on the liquor-free streets of New York.  
  
The door behind Pop Becker's bookshelf opened and a tall, attractive man, in his mid twenties stepped through. His shining black hair was parted, but hidden under his trusty fedora. Even though he hadn't changed his suit since the night before, he looked as though he had just bought it. The dark blue with white pinstripes and a white handkerchief in his jacket pocket were spotless, even though he led the spontaneous life that everyone around Fat Sam's seemed to be sucked into.  
  
Bugsy grinned at Fizzy, who had snapped out of his daze to look up at him. "Hey, Fizz." His voice always sounded as velvety and innocent, even though he'd seen things in his life worse than anyone Fizzy could think of. "Have you seen Blousey?"  
  
"The new girl? Yeah. She went to powder her nose. She left her things here, so I figure she'll be back."  
  
Bugsy pulled up a chair at one of the small tables near the stage. "She's got an audition, right?"  
  
Fizzy growled softly. "Yeah. How come you never put in a good word with Sam for me? You know I can dance."  
  
Bugsy grinned at him again. "Because you know I don't swing that way, Fizz. Don't worry about it. You'll to dance here sometime."  
  
"Yeah. Sometime. Or maybe I'll just go try working for Dandy Dan." He sighed and waved goodbye lazily as he went to find a mop and bucket.  
  
"Well, doesn't he just get more and more depressing?" A silky voice said from the stairs leading down from the dressing rooms and offices.  
  
Bugsy didn't have to turn around to know who it was, but he did. Tallulah glided down the stairs, dressed beautifully in black and gold, three of her fellow showgirls in tow. He struggled to remember the girls' names.  
  
The first, tall and tan, with dark brown hair that was unfashionably long. Loretta. He smiled. He'd met Loretta at Dandy Dan's place working as a lowly cigarette girl. She was pretty enough and couldn't sing for the life of her, bless her heart, but she was a good dancer, a sweet girl, and had nice breasts.  
  
The second, shorter than Loretta and terribly thin with an ash blonde bob hidden under an expensive cloche hat. Dotty. Dotty had been a struggling ballerina/gymnast, who had been hanging around Fat Sam's, talking to Fizzy and showing him how to go into a backbend without falling. And this is how she earned her good word from Bugsy. Shit, she was flexible. Not excessively pretty, but. extremely flexible.  
  
The third, short, young, slightly heavyset with short blonde hair. Tillie. She was cute and had been crying when Sam turned her down the first time. It made Bugsy's heart wrench just thinking about it. He couldn't stand to see a woman cry, even a young one like Tillie. He'd taken her to get ice cream and ended up back at his place. Cute kid. He thought.  
  
And then there was Tallulah, who had been the first to welcome him to Fat Sam's. She was Sam Stacetto's girlfriend and milked him for all he was worth. She was gorgeous with dark shining hair and bright sapphire eyes. The only word Bugsy could think to describe her figure was "voluptuous". Her breasts were full and her hips were curvy, but her waist was narrow enough to make her look like a perfect hourglass. She had plump and pouting lips that were dark pink and almost always twisted into a beguiling, yet sarcastic smirk.  
  
The first night he'd walked into Fat Sam's, Tallulah had been performing and he'd been completely taken with her. He'd found her after the show and given her flowers.  
  
"You're sweet," She'd said simply, leaning in the doorway of her dressing room, dressed in her blue Japanese kimono. "What's your name, love?"  
  
"Bugsy Malone." His hands had been shaking, something that hadn't happened to him in the years since.  
  
"Well, Bugsy Malone," She stressed his name, making her voice seem even more throaty and seductive than usual. "Thank you for the flowers."  
  
"Let me take you to dinner."  
  
She chuckled. "Sure, tiger."  
  
He'd taken her to some fancy French place and paid for them both and had to evade his landlord for a month because of it. And he hadn't even slept with her.  
  
In fact, she was the only one of the showgirls Bugsy hadn't had a go with. Completely unattainable.  
  
Fuck, I want her. He thought, as often was his thought when around Tallulah.  
  
"Hi, Tallulah." He smiled.  
  
"Hi, Bugsy." Loretta waved coyly at him.  
  
"Good to see you again, Bugsy." Dotty tittered.  
  
"H-Hello, B-Bugsy." Tillie's face was bright red.  
  
Bugsy winked at her. "Hey, Tillie baby. You're looking good."  
  
Her blush intensified.  
  
Tallulah's lip curled slightly, as it always did when the other girls spoke for too long. "Okay girls. Beat it."  
  
"Tallulah!" Dotty's voice was whiny and higher than Bugsy remembered.  
  
"Get lost!" It was one of the rare instances that she ever raised her voice, and the girls knew to heed her and leave. They all gave Bugsy quick waves goodbye and rushed out through the bookshelf door.  
  
She sat in the chair next to him, sitting elegantly, even at the little table. "I haven't seen you around much. What? Did you get a job?"  
  
Bugsy shrugged. He wasn't the same kid he'd been when he'd met her. He could have any woman he wanted. He didn't have to show off for her. "I've been busy."  
  
She gave an unladylike snort. "Yeah. With the new girl. You given her the Bugsy Malone stamp of approval yet?"  
  
"Not yet."  
  
Tallulah looked almost looked. relieved? No, that can't be right.  
  
"Hmm. Well. I don't like her."  
  
Jealous? No. Not Tallulah. "You don't?"  
  
She scoffed. "Mousy and whining. Cries too much. She's weak. She'll never make it."  
  
"Of course not. But that's what you say about all the girls here."  
  
"Well, none of them seem to be going any place," She paused to smile lightly. "Do they?"  
  
He laughed. "No, I guess not."  
  
"You've got the nicest laugh, Bugsy. Did I ever tell you that? Makes your eyes light up."  
  
He gulped, trying desperately to figure out her aim. "Careful, Tallulah. You're racing my motor."  
  
She slid to the other side of her chair, leaning towards him. "And where's the harm in that?" Her mouth seemed even more full as she pouted her lips at him.  
  
Fuck. No. Sam will be here soon and he'll use my bones for toothpicks.  
  
"Tallulah," He started to protest, but couldn't think of anything to say.  
  
She brushed her hands over his shoulders, pulling him closer to her subtly. "Come on, Bugsy. You want this. You always have. I know you."  
  
He jerked back. "No. What about Sam?"  
  
She pulled his hat off, setting it on the table so she could run her fingers through his hair. "Forget about Sam," Pulling him close again and rubbing his shoulders gently, she spoke in lower tones. "Come on, love. Just something quick." Her mouth brushed against his gently before she kissed him thoroughly.  
  
It was as though his head was underwater and there was no way to come up for air. He closed his eyes from the shock of it and found himself kissing her back, pressing his mouth against hers, almost painfully.  
  
Nothing seemed to matter right then. Nothing seemed to exist except his mouth tasting the sweet plum wine she'd always been so partial to, as his tongue spun in an inconstant dance with hers.  
  
For a moment, his thoughts were sane and focused. He knew that he couldn't have sex with Tallulah, not in the middle of the speakeasy with Blousey due back any moment, with Sam upstairs in his office, with various showgirls coming and going. And then he felt her slide into his lap, making the wooden chair groan with their combined weight, and his thoughts disappeared in a mind-warping blur.  
  
His hands traveled up her legs and rolled her stockings down to her ankles. Her legs were long and smooth and his fingers roamed over them gently. Without hesitation, he moved his hands up her loose dress, memorizing her curves, tracing the shape of each breast, rubbing his thumbs over the hardened buds of her nipples.  
  
Tallulah smiled into his mouth, untucking his shirt and unbuttoning his trousers. She roamed his body brazenly, provoking him to shed any caution he may have been harboring. Straying from her mouth, his lips nibbled and kissed down her neck.  
  
Without warning, she lowered herself onto him, enveloping him in her warmth and he gasped sharply from the shock of it. The shock wore off quickly, though, and was replaced by an wave of urgency that could have knocked him over. They moved together haphazardly, kissing and biting at each other randomly.  
  
Tallulah let out a loud moan and Bugsy groaned after her, immensely pleased with himself. He'd never seen Tallulah really let go before.  
  
"You're a dirty rat, Bugsy Malone!" A girl's voice shouted from over his shoulder. "A horrible. dirty. filthy. fucking rat!"  
  
"Well," Tallulah's voice was as silky as always, even though she was still bouncing in Bugsy's lap. "Good to see you again, Blousey. Could you wait until we're finished, though?"  
  
(A/N: Okay, so this is the first chapter. Gotta love that whorey Bugsy, no? More to come.) 


	2. Candy Coated

"Could you wait until we're finished, though?" Tallulah's voice was passive, but there the sharp look she gave nearly cut Blousey in half on the spot.  
  
Bugsy's head swam, as he tried to think of something, anything, but he was still inside Tallulah and she was still moving, now oblivious to Blousey's presence. "Blousey!" He managed.  
  
Blousey's delicate features contorted into a mixture of blatant rage and disgust that made his inside liquefy. "Don't you fucking dare speak to me, Bugsy Malone!"  
  
Tallulah climaxed, then Bugsy did, and then Blousey burst into tears and ran out of the room, slamming the dressing room door behind her.  
  
Tallulah stood, pulling her undergarments back up and straightening her dress. "Thanks, tiger." Her voice had a hint of laughter to it, but she held it down well and kissed him once more before she walked gracefully up the stairs to Sam's office.  
  
Bugsy stared at her as she left in disbelief. He'd just had sex with Tallulah in the middle of the speakeasy, like he'd always wanted, but that damn Blousey was off crying now.  
  
He stood up and zipped his fly and tucked his shirt back in.  
  
"Shit," He grumbled, straightening his lapels. Quickly, he stole a bouquet of roses out of a vase on the table next to him, put his hat back on, and scrambled up the stairs.  
  
The dressing room was noisy, even with the door closed Bugsy could hear the squeals and giggles of various showgirls. He knocked and leaned causally in the doorframe. The door swung open and a surprisingly tall woman stood in front of him. She still wore the customary blonde wig over her short brown waves and she looked highly disheveled from a night of dancing and drinking. She was wearing the ugliest dress Bugsy could ever remember setting his eyes on, bright purple with ruffles and cheap beads. Her normally sour and dull-witted look was replaced by a grin which made her large lips stretch almost to their breaking point.  
  
"Hey, Bangles." Bugsy gave his trademark grin. "Is Blousey here?"  
  
Bangles smile drooped sympathetically. "She won't see you, Bugsy. She's mad. Real mad."  
  
He sighed and looked down at the floor. "Bangles, we've had some good times, right? Remember that night when we went for dinner and ended up back at my place?" To be honest, Bugsy had no idea what the hell he was talking about, but at one point he'd gone out to dinner with every showgirl and ended up back at his place. He just hoped that he'd already had that dinner with Bangles.  
  
She chewed on her lip in what she must have thought to be a coy look. "Oh, Bugsy. That was simply magical." She stayed in the doorway, looking incredibly dumb.  
  
He took her hand and kissed her bony knuckles gently. "Do me this favor? Tell Blousey I'm here?"  
  
She giggled unattractively and wrinkled her nose in a smile. "Heh. 'Kay!" In a whirl of hideous violet frills, she turned around and screamed into the room. "BLOUSEY! THE DOOR!"  
  
Everyone was obviously quite taken aback because there was sudden silence within the room, except for the light shuffled of Blousey's feet as she scampered to the door. Bangles pet her condescendingly on the head and, after a final smile at Bugsy, went back inside.  
  
Blousey stepped out of the doorway and into the hall at a good distance from him. There was a loud shuffling noise and all the girls moved to the door to watch them.  
  
Blousey's shoulder length mouse brown hair was pulled back into a messy bun and her pale cheeks were tear stained and blotchy. She looked like hell, but it was understand.  
  
Virgins. Bugsy thought. They're so touchy.  
  
"What do you want, jerk?" She said sharply. Jerk was apparently the best insult she could muster.  
  
"I brought flowers." He held out the still wet roses to her.  
  
She snatched them from him and in her haste stabbed herself with a thorn. "I'll see that Tallulah gets them."  
  
"Don't get smart, Blousey. They're for you."  
  
"I don't want them." She tossed them to his feet and nursed her injured hand.  
  
"Look," This was getting old, fast. "This isn't what it seems like."  
  
"Oh no?" She was starting to raise her voice. "So you weren't.." She gave a small squeak and started to cry again. "Having sex with Tallulah in the middle of the speakeasy?!"  
  
There was a collective gasp from their audience at the door.  
  
"She doesn't mean anything to me, Blousey!" This was a lie. She did mean "something". He just didn't know what.  
  
"Oh yeah, sure. Do you always do.... THAT with girls that don't mean anything to you?"  
  
Er... He thought frantically. "No! Of course not." He felt terribly for lying to a sobbing girl, but there would be a lot more if he told the truth. "It was a mistake. Please, let me make it up to you."  
  
She blinked at him with long, wet eyelashes. "How? How could you possibly make it up to me?"  
  
"I got a job. I'm getting two thousand bucks for doing some favors for Sam."  
  
"Is fucking his girlfriend on the list?"  
  
"Blousey." He said sternly. He hated being interrupted. "Two thousand bucks will buy us two tickets."  
  
"Tickets?"  
  
"On the Super Chief. To Hollywood." This was getting out of hand. If she hadn't cried, he would never have agreed to this.  
  
There was general excitement from the crowd.  
  
"Yeah. Sure."  
  
"Blousey, believe me."  
  
She shook her head and started for the door. "I'll believe it when I see it."  
  
The crowd parted for her and they all gave little waves and winks to Bugsy before closing the door.  
  
What the hell did I just promise to do? He banged his head on the wall.  
  
(A/N: A little short, yes, but that's all that had to happen for now. Will Bugsy actually spend 2 grand on Blousey? Will he ever sleep with Tallulah again? What's up with Tallulah anyway? Where's Fat Sam? Where's Dandy Dan, for that matter?? All this and more to be explained!) 


	3. For All His Friends, He Always Seems to ...

Sam Staccetto was nearly a perfect sphere. He had a red face and thinning light brown hair. He had never been an attractive man and, even in his youth, he had always been obese. One might think that underneath his angry exterior, that there was a sad, crying, fat child, but those who knew him knew that this was very untrue.  
  
The blood vessels in his nose had popped from excess drinking, making the already large nose look even bolder. He parted what was left of his hair down the middle and slicked it down with a vile smelling grease that he made himself. His eyes were black and beady and frequently darted from side to side, partly because he was paranoid and partly because he was a Gemini and they tend to be twitchy.  
  
He sat in his office, waiting impatiently for the girl he was supposed to audition to come back from the bathroom. His large frame was shoved into a wooden office chair and squished behind his desk, stogie in his mouth, bulging fingers spread out on top of various pieces of paper.  
  
His wingman, Vincent "Knuckles" Jones, stood to his left, awkward and skinny, dressed in a gray suit that was too small. His hands were shaking and he balled them into fists and relaxed them constantly. Knuckles was a jumpy man, afraid of his own shadow and a thousand times more so of his boss and best friend, Fat Sam. He and Sam had grown up together, neither of them bright children, fighting other children on the playground and dropping out of school early to go into business. Sam was better with putting things into action, whereas Knuckles had always been the brains, which never worked out terribly well.  
  
"Where the fuck did this broad go?" Sam said, slamming his fist down on the desk. Knuckles jumped and let a squeak more suited for a teenage boy than a grown man.  
  
"I-I dunno, Boss." Said Knuckles. He always called Sam "Boss" and always had. It was just how they worked.  
  
"Go make sure she didn't fall in." Sam flicked the ashes of his cigar into a small marble ashtray.  
  
"Sure, Boss." Knuckles cracked his namesake as he walked over to the door. He opened it, revealing Bugsy Malone.  
  
"Bugsy!" Sam said somewhat merrily, muffled slightly by his cigar, but that was common with him.  
  
"Hey, Sam. Howdy, Knuckles." Bugsy nodded to each of them and walked in, keeping a safe distance from Sam.  
  
"What can I do you for, Bugs? You look like hell. Problems with the new girl?"  
  
"Yeah, you could say that." He looked around. "Where's Tallulah?"  
  
"Tallulah?" Sam rubbed his short, pudgy fingers over his brow in thought. "Hell if I know. She came in here and grabbed her coat. Laughing like hell, crazy bitch." He shook his head and leaned back in his chair. "So, what's wrong with the new girl? I'm supposed to audition her, but she went to the can and never came back. Ain't you left yet, Knuckles?"  
  
"S-Sorry, Boss!" He started out the door.  
  
"She's in the dressing room!" Bugsy called after him. "Nothing is wrong with her. I just got conned into taking her to Hollywood."  
  
Sam threw his fat head back and laughed. "Got you by the balls, eh? HA! I like it. If she can sing, she's in. She doesn't give lip, does she? I got enough of that from Tallulah."  
  
Bugsy had just fucked Sam's girlfriend and here he was giving his stamp of approval for someone else. His heart contracted and he felt slightly faint. He just hoped Sam didn't kill him too slowly. "N-No, Sam. Hell, she's only called me a jerk and a rat."  
  
"That's it?" Sam laughed again. "I bet you deserve ten times worse!"  
  
"Yeah, well. Makin' me take her to California is definitely worse."  
  
"So, you approve of her?" Sam asked, getting down to business.  
  
"Yeah, she's a nice girl. And I heard her sing, too. She's good."  
  
"Where was she auditioning?"  
  
"The Bijoux."  
  
Sam shook his head. "That fucking Lena Marelli. Nutty as a fucking fruitcake. If she weren't sleeping with Oscar, he'd make her a cigarette girl again before she could screech another word."  
  
Bugsy breathed a laugh. "I just wanted to let you know you should hire her."  
  
Sam grunted. "Yeah, okay. Thanks. I got a personal phone call to make. I'll talk to you later."  
  
Bugsy caught the hint and tipped his hat. "Bye." He exited quickly, sweating furiously.  
  
~*~  
  
Daniel Morris hated his nickname. Dandy Dan made him seem weak and the story behind it was rarely told to counter this thought.  
  
When he was seventeen, he picked up his first gun and joined his first gang, under the thumb of Robert McGowen. Dan was a plucky kid and had a real problem with authority. He was too smart to be stuck taking orders from someone else and he knew this. And so one night, McGowen was eating at a nice little restaurant with his young new wife, Louella, and Dan went in with a very early model of the splurge gun (named for its effect on the victim) and shot him eight times in the chest, laughing as he did so.  
  
And so the nickname was born.  
  
Dan wasn't very tall nor was he short, but he was terribly commanding. His dark hair was slicked back and his skin was sallow. He had round mud brown eyes and was highly irritable. He was called Dandy Dan, although he only smiled while someone was dying. Most of the time, his mouth was contorted into an annoyed frown and his left eyebrow was twitching.  
  
He sat in his parlor with his wife, Louella. Louella had eloped with Dan the day after Robert McGowen was put in the ground. She was a dainty woman, with pale tresses she kept shoulder length and wavy. She had bright blue eyes and a small pink mouth. Her features were mildly mouse-like, but she was unconventionally cute. She was always dressed in the finest of everything, Dan insisted. And at the moment, she was wearing a crème colored satin dress and her pearls, even though they were simply lounging around their home.  
  
William, their butler, walked into the room stiffly, holding the phone on a platter. "Mr. Staccetto, sir."  
  
Dan's eyebrow twitched and he snatched the receiver. "Hello?"  
  
"Dan? It's Sam."  
  
"What do you want, Sam?"  
  
"I want to meet with you, Dan."  
  
"Sorry, Sam. I already got a wife."  
  
Sam grunted angrily into the phone and his voice was taught when he spoke again. "We need to settle this. Just the two of us."  
  
"Fine, Sam. Tomorrow. The park. At noon. No hoods." The park was where all gangsters met to settle their differences. Neutral territory.  
  
"No one but our drivers."  
  
"See you then, Sam."  
  
Sam's lip curled as he hung up the receiver. He hated when people had to say his name in every sentence.  
  
Dan looked at Louella with a smirk. "Louella, my rose. I'm finally going to get rid of that bastard."  
  
(A/N: Yeah, I know that there was barely any Bugsy and there was no Tallulah. Not to fear! They will be back in full swing, I swear. Short chapter. But oh well! More to come! Oh yeah. In the last chapter I noticed that I'm an idiot and said that Bugsy's getting 2000 bucks from Sam. I had a total brain fart-yes, brain fart. Wanna fight about it?-and realized that it's $200.) 


End file.
